


It's a Flavour Sensation

by daniomalley



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 10:27:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1262863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daniomalley/pseuds/daniomalley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for <a href="http://no-tags.dreamwidth.org/">no_tags</a>, for the prompt 'Brendon/Spencer/Ryan - experimental milkshakes'. Five times fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's a Flavour Sensation

1\. 

Spencer’s grandmother’s garage was small, cramped and dark, but Ryan never seemed to recognise that it was any of those things.

“I think,” Ryan said, speaking slowly and deliberately, “that this calls for celebration milkshakes.”

Spencer worked at not rolling his eyes. Ryan’s flair for the dramatic was sometimes hard to take, but when he looked at Brendon’s anxious, hopeful face, it was hard not to feel the import of the moment.

“You mean it?” Brendon asked, a smile just barely curving his lips. “I’m in?”

Ryan looked at Spencer and Brent quickly, but the truth was the decision had been made as soon as Brendon started to play. “Yeah,” Ryan said easily. “You’re in. Do you want a milkshake or not?” The question wasn’t quite casual, as though it was more a test than an invitation. Brendon lifted his chin and nodded, his eyes huge and eager. Spencer was tempted to shoulder him out of the way so that he could walk beside Ryan up to the house, but he resisted. 

Ryan took charge of making the milkshakes that day. Cheerios and strawberry syrup was one of his more normal creations, but it was still odd enough that Brendon looked a little concerned until he took a sip. Ryan watched Brendon drink it with a fierce concentration, like he was waiting for Brendon to declare it too weird or gross, like he’d _care_ if Brendon said anything like that.

Brendon drank every drop.

2\. 

It was only Brendon’s church and there were only about a hundred people there, but it felt like a lot more when Spencer had the drumsticks in his hands and the other three were waiting for him to begin. He played his heart out.

It was still a far cry from the concerts Spencer played in his imagination. They’d chosen the songs for the set very carefully, knowing how important it was to make a good impression on Brendon’s family, and by extension, the entire group. Everyone was polite and clapped after each song, but they obviously weren’t really into it. They didn’t quite get it.

The four of them had all spent the night at Spencer’s house in preparation. They’d barely slept, even though they all agreed that they needed to be well-rested. They’d rehearsed for hours and then gathered in the living room to watch movies. Brendon had worn track pants and a t-shirt that showed a strip of skin just above his hips, and although Spencer had tried not to look, his eyes kept drifting that way. 

He’d turned his head away and his eyes had found Ryan instead, the collar of his v-necked shirt letting his collarbone show. It was completely unfair, Spencer thought. Ryan by himself was distraction enough, but the two of them together simply shouldn’t be allowed. Then Ryan wanted more chips and Brendon offered to get them, in _Spencer’s_ house, where logically it was Spencer’s job to be in charge of the snacks and Ryan was perfectly capable of getting his own anyway. Spencer figured he couldn’t have too much of a crush if he suddenly wanted to strangle them both.

They’d made Jell-O, pouring raspberry flavoured crystals into a huge bowl, and left it in the fridge to set. It was firm by the time they got home, and Brent presided over making milkshakes to toast their first show. He scooped huge spoonfuls of Jell-O into the blender to mingle with the ice-cream.

It didn’t turn out quite according to plan; the blender returned the Jell-O to an almost liquid state, but it was still perhaps the most delicious and definitely the sweetest thing Spencer had ever tasted.

3.

Spencer had no idea what to look for in a blender, particularly if what you wanted was less a device to mush things up in until they were drinkable as an appropriate present to give to a friend. The sort that would say ‘You’re re stupid and annoying and ridiculously brave, and I need you to be okay.’ Spencer doubted they made blenders that said all that. They probably didn’t even have Hallmark cards that did.

The girl on the register gave him an odd look once he’d finally made his choice, as though she couldn’t understand what a teenage boy was doing buying a kitchen appliance while apparently unaccompanied by an adult. Spencer smiled at her, all teeth, and paid in cash.

“Does Brendon’s apartment even have electricity to run this on?” Ryan asked when they were on their way across town to see him.

“Yes,” Spencer said shortly. He glanced over at Ryan. “But it’s bicycle generated. You’ll have to pedal while we make the milkshakes.”

Ryan snickered. “Fat chance.”

The electrical outlet in the kitchen already had a power strip plugged into it, and another power strip was plugged into that. Spencer plugged the blender into the sole remaining spot with a healthy sense of trepidation, expecting to be electrocuted at any moment.

Brendon had a massive sweet tooth, which Spencer had tried to appeal to in his choice of ingredients. It wasn’t very successful, though. The Mars bar worked okay but the M&M’s just sank to the bottom of the glass, and they didn’t turn the milk any interesting colours, either, just a rather murky shade of brown. 

Once they’d all finished drinking, Brendon handed around spoons so they could scoop up the M&M’s. “Waste not, want not,” he said cheerily, but he wasn’t quite meeting anyone’s eyes and his voice sounded just a tiny bit higher in pitch than normal. Spencer crossed the room and put an arm around Brendon’s shoulders, squeezing him tight. Brendon leaned into him and Spencer looked over the top of his head to see Ryan glaring at him.

Spencer glared back and refused to move away from Brendon’s side. If Ryan was going to go getting all jealous over Brendon, maybe he should actually do something about it rather than being a dick.

4\. 

It was probably the most important day of their lives. At least, that was how Ryan had described it on the phone; “Spencer!” he’d wailed, “this is the most important day of our lives!”

Ryan was never going to forgive him for not being there. Spencer went around to Ryan’s house later on, when he could finally get away. He sat outside the house for a good five minutes, tapping a syncopated rhythm on the steering wheel, before he went inside.

Milkshake production was in full swing when he went inside. Spencer couldn’t quite tell whether they were celebrating or commiserating, but it was clear that something huge had happened. Brendon was conducting the operation like he was a general laying siege to the kitchen, and Ryan was standing beside him, watching Brendon’s every move. Ryan looked over at Spencer when he came in and said, “Oh. You’re here.”

“What happened?” Spencer asked, not bothering to apologise, not now when Ryan didn’t want to listen.

“Pete loved us,” Brendon said, forcedly cheerful. “We’re going to be rock stars.”

“Holy shit,” Spencer replied, because the thrill of that news overpowered even the guilt. He glanced over the assortment of ingredients Brendon had assembled and felt uneasy. “You know, it’s not usually a good idea to mix sweet with savoury,” he said.

“Huh?” Brendon asked, looking where Spencer was pointing. “Oh, but it’s right in the name, Spencer!” he argued. “ _Sweet_ chilli sauce.”

“Uh-huh,” Spencer said dubiously. He glanced over at Ryan, like he often did at times like this, but instead of returning the look and maybe flicking Brendon’s ear or something, Ryan just looked a little dazed. It was probably just excitement, Spencer figured. It was probably the shared experience of meeting Pete fucking Wentz and getting signed to a music label that had the two of them so giggly and wound up. It didn’t mean that anything had happened between them. 

Ryan filled Spencer’s glass – right to the brim, he noticed – and handed it over with a challenging stare. Spencer stared back, because if making him drink this was Ryan’s idea of payback, he was damn well going to make sure Ryan drank a glass too.

It tasted better than that time with the mustard, but Spencer couldn’t bring that up because Ryan had made him promise never to mention it again.

5.

“I’m not sure this is technically a milkshake,” Brendon said, hovering over Spencer as he scooped the ice-cream. “I think if you’re putting fruit in it, it’s technically a smoothie. I should know. I have a lot of experience in this area.”

“Whatever,” Spencer said, gesturing for Ryan to add the chopped strawberries and pineapple. He nodded for Brent to add the honey. 

“What do I get to add?” Brendon asked, poking Spencer in the side. “You’ve all added something. I think I should get to contribute too. That way, the milkshake is like a, you know, like a symbol of the four of us, and the album that we totally recorded the shit out of.”

Spencer rolled his eyes at Ryan, who smirked back at him. “Would you like to push the button, Brendon?” he asked, offering the full blender.

“Yes, yes I would!” Brendon chirped, leaning over to switch it on. Ryan put his arm around Brendon’s waist and Brendon turned to gaze deeply into his eyes and probably whisper sweet nothings into his ear. Apparently they were suffering from a lack of privacy, but Spencer privately thought he was suffering more than either of them. It wasn’t safe to walk into any room that had been unoccupied for more than five minutes.

Spencer rescued the blender from Brendon’s inattentiveness with a pointed sigh. Once they’d poured their symbolic milkshakes, Brent raised his in the air. “To us!” he said.

“To us!” Brendon shouted.

Once they’d cleaned up, Brent wandered off to make a phone call and Spencer murmured something about packing and headed for the door.

“Wait, Spencer,” said Brendon. Spencer froze in the doorway and reluctantly glanced back. Brendon was standing just a couple of steps away, and his eyes were huge. “You’ve got some milkshake,” he said, tapping his lip.

Spencer swiped at his face, but Brendon said, “No, on the other side,” and put his hand out. He put his fingers to Spencer’s cheek, and instead of brushing anything off, he let them stay there.

Spencer looked over at Ryan who was just watching with furtive interest. Spencer was quickly growing tired of the game, so he said, “What’s going on?”

Ryan and Brendon looked horribly uncomfortable at that, of course. God forbid either of them ever voluntarily talk about their feelings. “What’s going on?” Spencer repeated impatiently. “Come on, Brendon, knock it off.”

“It’s fine,” Brendon said, although he pulled his hand away. 

“It’s really not,” said Spencer. “What is this, some pity thing?”

Brendon looked offended. “No? And fuck you!”

Ryan cleared his throat, and the idea of Ryan being the peacemaker between him and Brendon was so ridiculous that it distracted Spencer from being pissed off. “Look, Spence, it’s not... Brendon likes you, and I like you. And you like Brendon.”

“I like you too, Ryan,” Spencer added, when it became clear that Ryan either hadn’t noticed that, or didn’t believe it. “I don’t get what you’re trying to do, though. You want what, like a one-off thing?”

“Well...” Brendon began, his expression closing off a little, “if you – I mean, if that’s all you-”

“No,” Ryan interrupted. “We’re not looking for a one-off. We...” Ryan glanced helplessly at Brendon for help.

“The two of us would like to be the three of us,” Brendon said with a cheerful but nervous grin. Spencer gave him and Ryan a long look, trying to gauge whether they were serious. 

“You haven’t thought this through at all, have you?” he asked. “What if we break up, huh? What happens to the band then?” Sometimes it still seemed like the band was too good to be true, like the slightest misstep could ruin everything.

“Even if we don’t do anything about them, the feelings won’t just go away on their own,” Brendon pointed out. “And what if _that_ fucks up the band?”

Spencer wasn’t sure when Brendon and Ryan became the reasonable ones who talked him down from the edge, but he didn’t like it. “I want you to know I’ve still got doubts about this,” he said, just to be contrary, but Ryan merely smirked at him. He knew Spencer far too well. “What now? And don’t say milkshakes, because we’re out of milk.”

Ryan’s grin was wicked. “I had something else in mind.”

***

For all his worrying, Spencer couldn’t believe he’d only considered the situation from one angle. He’d been so concerned about how the band might be affected if the three of them didn’t work out, and he’d never considered what might happen to the three of them if things didn’t work out with the band.

He hadn’t been sure about his own place amongst the three of them. If he’d had to, he would have predicted that he’d be the one left on his own while Ryan and Brendon stayed together. They’d always seemed like such a perfect fit.

_u ok?_ he texted Ryan, knowing that this message would go ignored just like the last five.

He wasn’t sure what Brendon was thinking about the whole mess, because he hadn’t really talked about it. Spencer didn’t know if he’d tried to contact Ryan or not, although he was pretty sure Brendon would have said something if Ryan had contacted him. He looked around hopefully every time Spencer came into the room, like he thought Spencer might know something he didn’t. Perhaps Brendon thought Ryan was more likely to talk to Spencer.

He picked up his phone and tapped out another message - _me & bden wud like to talk?_ \- and sent it without much hope of getting a reply.

“I think Ryan’s really hurt.”

“We’re all hurt,” Spencer answered impatiently. “Ryan’s no less responsible for all this than the rest of us. He said shitty things too.”

“Yeah, but maybe if we’d...”

“Brendon, I don’t think... I don’t think there’s any magical fix we could have done to stop this from happening. Unless it was to just do everything Jon and Ryan’s way. Are you wishing that we’d done that?”

Brendon thought about Spencer’s question seriously, taking his time. “No,” he said at last. “That wouldn’t have worked. It would have turned out the same way in the end.”

“Yeah,” said Spencer. “That’s what I figure too.” But it didn’t stop him watching his phone, or compulsively checking his email. It didn’t stop him reading Ryan’s twitter feed, looking for the slightest clue that the splitting of the band didn’t mean the splitting of their relationship.

He knew it was stupid. Ryan was going to need time before he’d feel up to talking – Spencer _knew_ that, but it didn’t stop him worrying.

When his phone finally buzzed on the third day, Spencer more or less pounced on it. He was terrified, afraid of the possibility that Ryan’s message would be the final nail in the coffin. Instead, it was a photo.

Ryan was standing in his kitchen, the bench covered with glasses and bottles of syrup and boxes of sugary cereal.

“Bring ice-cream,” the message with it said. Spencer reread it six times to make sure.

“Brendon!” he called shakily, “We have to go to the store.”


End file.
